Proving myself
by TheAthenaSisters
Summary: Jem Kendrick is a son of Bellona who is an outcast in the Twelfth Legion. Lyra Bowman is a daughter of Apollo who doesn't quite fit in among the Greeks. They have a common goal- to prove themselves. What happens when their paths cross? Appearances by many beloved characters!
1. Jem Kendrick I

**A/N: This is a joint account between two authors, mostly to post the story of Jem and Lyra. Feel free to check out our personal accounts as well. We will probably post about once a week.**

 **Disclaimer: The poem is original. Jem and Lyra are original. Everything else belongs to the troll god.**

The streets of New-and-Improved Rome are busy today. Everyone is coming out to welcome the Graecus visitors. Ever since the Second Giant War ended, high and mighties like Airhead Jackson & Jason The Greek lover have been spewing a lot of nonsense about "intermingling" and "understanding each other". That's why Greek & Roman demigods/legacies have been visiting the other camp and adapting their lifestyles.

What a load of centaur poop. There are two camps for a reason- and that reason is Greeks and Romans have always been and will always be different. People can cry about the Roman copycats all they want, but that doesn't change anything. And as far as I'm concerned, the Greeks would do well to stay up in New York in their little rustic summer camp.

Of course, no one cares what I think. I'm still just a probatio. I'm the son of Bellona- a respected Roman goddess- which makes me Praetor Reyna's half brother. That's where my fame in the Twelfth Legion begins and ends. I hate fighting with a pilum, and I hate working in a team, which makes me a pathetic legionnaire. That's what the centurions of the 2nd cohort tell me anyway. I'm only in their cohort because they're afraid of Reyna, otherwise I'd be down in the loser 5th- or former loser 5th. Currently they're still enjoying the post-war fame.

The entire Twelfth legion are a bunch of schists. Reyna couldn't care less about me- she barely knows I exist. And playing favorites isn't the Roman way- unless you're a part of the Senate, of course. I couldn't care less about what cohort I'm in, or whether I ever become a centurion or a halfway decent legionnaire. I know that I can easily beat the stuffing out of the entire 1st and 2nd cohorts in a fight, and that's all that matters. Not what anyone else thinks.

At least, that's what I tell myself.

I fight through the crowds. Everybody is at the Little Tiber to see the Greek visitors. There are about six of them arriving today. Even though I don't like the whole exchange program thing, I do like to know who the Greeks are. It helps me know who I should avoid when I'm not training.

I bump into a girl. She's one of the Greek visitors- she's wearing the orange T-shirt and the dazed expression all of them have when they first see New Rome. No doubt their own camp pales by comparison.

"Watch it, Graecus," I snap at her. She seems startled by the name calling. She must have thought all the Graecus haters are gone- not that I consider myself a full-blown hater. She has a willowy build & knives sheathed at her waist. I sneer at her deer-in-the-headlights look and melt away into the crowd.

I slip up a tree at the back of the crowd & perch lightly on the first thick branch. It's always much easier to observe people from a higher vantage point. There are seven Greeks, one more than I expected. The girl I ran into is easily the most terrified looking one. She's standing close to a brunette, who had her hand set protectively on the girl's shoulder. There's an Asian girl who's pretty enough to be a Venus- sorry, Aphrodite- camper. There's a couple of mischievous looking boys who are obviously brothers. I can also see Di Angelo (a somewhat bearable Greek) and a blond boy in a surgeon shirt who somehow still manages to look as though he'd be right at home on the surf. Should be easy enough to avoid- especially if they keep parading around in those loud orange shirts. Who thought demigods should be so visible when unarmed?

I notice my sister going to greet them. She exchanges words with Di Angelo. She seems easy and casual with him, like they're old friends. I guess transporting a priceless ancient relic across the globe does that to people.

Reyna will be making her customary "welcome to our slightly better camp" speech soon. I ought to clear out- if I hear it one more time I'll fall asleep. I have it completely memorized, forwards and backwards. down to her gestures and facial expressions. Gods, I need a life.

I shimmy down the tree, dropping and landing lightly on my feet. Some Greeks have described me as having cat-like agility when they think I'm not listening. Even if I'm not a good Roman legionnaire, apparently I'm excellent by Greek standards. Not entirely sure how I feel about that.

I take my time walking up the hill to my mother's shrine. Bellona, the goddess of war, the sister of Mars, the Roman counterpart to little known Greek goddess Enyo. Shrines are not her favorite thing- she prefers to be honored on the battlefield than through worship. I still come here though- to try and connect to her, to get some peace and quiet. To think. . . and to write.

My poetry is my secret. After all, what son of war writes poems? I've tried to create some battle verses, but it never turns out right. Probatio were left behind when the legion marched on the Greeks. I don't know what war feels like. Is it thrilling? Terrifying? Some combination of the two? Not knowing the answers to these questions makes it difficult to write about battle.

Mostly I write about my feelings. Using poetry to express myself is something my grandmother taught me before the wolves came. She used to sit me on her lap- when I grew older I sat by her feet- and talk to me in Korean, a language my father never fully learned. She used to tell me that words were my most powerful weapon, not a sword or a spear. I think she knew my mother was a war goddess.

I settle down by one of the pillars. This way I can see anyone coming up the path before they see me. It's unusual for demigods to hang out at their parent's shrine. I'm enough of an outsider already- besides, I like distancing myself from my family. Reminding people that my grandma is North Korean and that my sister is the praetor generally has negative effects.

My journal is purple and worn out. I've opened it so many times. I've had since I turned ten- a gift from my grandmother. I'm not feeling in the mood to write today. I just read what I've written out sometimes to make myself feel better. Well, not exactly better. More like not alone. Not a disaster.

I flip the pages to a poem I wrote when I first came to camp. It's concise, and one of my favorites. I hesitate, then I begin to quietly read aloud.

 _When the bed feels too cold_

 _and the food doesn't taste like home_

 _When you're snatched out of your only world_

 _and forced into another one_

 _That's when your eyes burn_

 _That's where the heartache starts_

I stop. The next verse is about getting better and looking forward, but I'm no longer as optimistic. I scratch out the entire stanza and pencil in more accurate feelings.

 _When it doesn't get better_

 _though everyone said it would_

 _When the scorn of the others_

 _stings like an open wound._

 _When what makes you special_

 _is a barrier to the outside world_

 _That's when the tears fall_

 _That's where the hope ends._

I stop, embarrassed to realize that I have tears pricking my eyes. A Roman legionnaire should not be this soft. I glance around, hoping no one noticed or heard me. I'll finish my poem later. I should get back to camp before someone starts looking for me.

I stand up, stretching my limbs. I'm not quite done at the shrine yet. I kneel in front of the statue of Bellona. It's so odd to think of her as my mother. I've never even met her.

Mother, I know I'm not a good legionnaire. But I've been trying. I really have. If you're listening, give me a chance to prove myself. I am your son. I am a soldier of Rome. Just not the traditional kind. Let me show the legion that.

I get up, wondering if Reyna ever prayed to our mother. Maybe. And maybe Bellona answered.

I sprint down the path to New Rome. I end up tripping on a loose cobblestone and tuck into a roll to avoid skinning my face and knees, managing to come up standing. I just barely avoid smashing into a blonde Greek. I recognize her. Daughter of Athena, Annabeth Chase.

She blinks at me, as though startled by what she just saw. I don't make a snippy comment- I sort of respect her, though I wouldn't admit it even if I was held at sword point. Instead, I nod at her and run toward Terminus.

"Jem Kendrick," he greets. " You're not on the list for the Senate meeting."

"Senate meeting?" I don't remember hearing anything about a meeting today. Did I simply forget?

"Emergency meeting," he grunts. "Some unusual activity not too far from here."

"Unusual activity" is generally code for "a stronger than usual monster". My eyes widen as I realize the Senate would probably be sending out a quest. Maybe my mother heard me!

"I'm not interested in the meeting," I tell him, lying through my teeth. "I just have some off time."

"Right," he says, rolling his eyes. "The guards ought to keep you out. You know the drill. Hand over the blowgun."

I groan, but give it to Julia. I don't like parting with my blowgun. It's a very un-Roman weapon, but it's strictly for emergencies and extremely effective. The darts are Imperial Gold.

"You're free to go," he says. "And cut your hair." He knows I won't.

I make like I'm heading for the bakery. I'm hungry, and the smell of fresh brownies is appealing, but the thirst to show everyone how wrong they are about me is even more pressing.

Once I'm near the edge of the path & out of the sight of Terminus, I dart into the back ways & soon, I've managed to sneak around behind the Senate building. This meeting shouldn't be soundproofed- monsters are pretty common. I press my ear to the wall and strain to hear what's going on. I hear Reyna speaking.

"Cyclops….three...dawn…" They're sending out a quest of three at dawn for a Cyclops? Oh come on.

A different voice speaks. I can't make out any of the words, but it sounds like a request. Reyna swiftly denies it. Must have been a stupid one. I hear a chorus of 'aye's from within, and Praetor Zhang declares the motion passed and the quest on.

If the quest goes well, they'll be able to take out the one-eyed brute. The centurions will never put me in the quest- they know what an awful legionnaire I am. The only solution is to beat the others to the Cyclops and take it out myself. Once I do that, I'll be famous, even if I get in a little trouble for disobeying commanding officers. All I have to do is find out where the Cyclops is.

 **A/N: Like it? Tell us. Constructive criticism? Tell us. Just click the little review button.**


	2. Lyra Bowman 1

**Lyra**

"Watch it Graecus," a harsh voice barked in my ear as I bumped into a roman camper. I stumbled back, startled, and looked up. The camper was tall, but only barely taller than me. He looked Asian, with black hair and dark, hostile eyes. He sneered at me and disappeared into the crowd.

"There you are," Katie Gardner, my best (and only) friend, came up behind me. "You're gonna miss the welcome speech."

"Right, the speech," I murmured. "Yay." Katie sighed.

"Look, I know you don't like crowds," Katie set her hand on my shoulder. "But this speech is to welcome us to Camp Jupiter. You and Drew the only campers who haven't been here before. You have to come." Katie grabbed my arm and hauled me through the crowd.

Katie pulled me up to the banks of the Little Tiber, where Reyna had just finished greeting the other demigods. I hid behind Katie and hoped Reyna didn't notice me. I didn't want to be introduced in front of the whole freaking camp! People say it's ironic for a child of Apollo to have stage fright. What they don't know is stage fright isn't even the tip of the iceberg. It's more like people fright. My mom says its anxiety, pressure from my ADHD, and school. On top of just learning I was a half-blood in the MIDDLE OF A WAR! But don't tell my mom. She thinks I'm at a camp for special needs children. She'd freak if she knew I fought in a war. I barely could handle it myself. Sometimes I still get nightmares.

Anyway back to my people fear. I just never feel comfortable around anyone. Always looking for faults and judging me. Waiting for me to mess up. It's terrifying.

Lucky for me the speech was over quickly and we were free to roam Rome. Katie showed me around the barracks, the Via Prinipals (which is basically the Big House but way fancier), and the roman community bath house (which I hope is more...modest than it sounds). We were walking up the road to New Rome when Will ran up to us.

"We got a problem," he said to Katie. She groaned.

"What did the Stolls do this time," she grumbled.

"They handcuffed Drew to a roman camper she was flirting with," Katie grumbled a few Greek curses under her breath and turned to me.

"We're gonna have to cut the tour short," she said apologetically. "If you still wanna see the temples, their just up the hill. I'll meet you in New Rome by the bakery in a hour ok?"

"Ok," I mumbled. Stupid Stolls. It's hard enough keeping a friend. They don't need to make it harder by creating disasters that Katie just had to personally see to and leave me alone.

"Hey, if you want I can show you the temples," Will set his elbow on my head.

"No, I'm fine going by myself," I murmured. "Besides, Nico's probably the one keeping Drew from killing the Stolls. When Katie gets there he's gonna go find you and want to tag along. No offense, but he kinda freaks me out." Will shrugged, which is its own kind of feat when I'm shoving his arm of my head.

"Suit yourself," Will ruffled my ombréd hair and followed Katie back towards the barracks. I scowled at his back and pulled my hair away from my face. Ok if you don't know what ombré means it's basically bleaching your hair in a special way. My roots are brown, but the rest of my hair gets lighter and lighter blond the closer it gets to the ends. An Aphrodite kid convinced me to dye it after I was claimed. Apparently I was the only Apollo kid with brown hair.

As I walked up the hill I thought about how I arrived at camp Half-Blood. My life had never been easy. My mom had told me my father died in a car crash when I was little. She raised me very...carefully. She was always worried something would happen to me. When I was diagnosed with ADHD she was scared to death I would fall behind in school. She stressed about me so much I began to stress to. I was constantly worried I'd let her down. If I even scraped my knee I was afraid she'd have a meltdown. I started losing friends. They were sick of me turning them down to study for a test a week in advance or refusing to go swimming because I was afraid I'd drown (for the record my mom refused to let me take swimming lessons so that wasn't a completely unreasonable fear. Even if the pool did have a ton of lifeguards).

One day my mom won a vacation from her work. We packed our bags and took an airplane from Phoenix, Rhode Island to Manhattan. That's where my life hit a new level of stressful. I was looking at postcards in a souvenir shop and turned around to show my mom when I slammed into a sickly looking kid. We tumbled to the ground when the weirdest thing happened. His foot popped off. In its place was a hoof.

"Wh-what the heck of wrong with your foot," I stammered. The kid hurriedly stuffed his fake foot back on then sniffed the air like a dog.

"I knew there was a demigod nearby," he mumbled, picking himself off the floor. He gave me a hand up. "My name's Zeke. I'm a satyr."

"A what?"

"Ok, this is gonna sound really weird but let me finish before you call the police," Zeke took a deep breath. "Your a demigod, which is a child of the Greek gods. They're not a myth. Their real and mostly reside near Manhattan. Monsters are real too. They can smell demigods such as yourself and will come after you. The only safe place for you is Camp Half-Blood, a safe haven for all demigod. Like I said, I'm a satyr. Me and the other satyrs are send out to find demigods and take them back to camp."

I blinked, trying to comprehend everything this guy was trying to say. I was a child of some sort of god and I had to go to a magical camp so I wouldn't be eaten by monsters. Okay...this guy was officially nuts. I backed away slowly and took my phone out of my pocket.

"Wait," the guy grabbed my wrist. "Your ADHD and maybe dyslexic. You have trouble at school and live in a one parent home or you have a step parent. You don't see anyone from one side of your family, and you sometimes see things you can't explain."

What. The. Heck. I pressed my palm to my temple, trying to get the pounding to stop. Somehow this guy basically new my life's story yet I'd never seen him before.

"Who the heck are you," I hissed.

"I told you. My name is Zeke. I'm a satyr and I need to get you to Camp Half-Blood as soon as possible."

"Fine," I practically choked on the word. "But how are you going to convince my mom to let me go with you?"

"Give her this," Zeke pulled a slightly crumpled brochure out of his back pocket. I skimmed the front page. It was a brochure about a camp for kids with learning disabilities.

"I'm not sure my mom will let me go to an overnight camp. Plus, it's pretty late in the summer. She won't believe that kids can sign up this late."

"Don't worry," Zeke pulled something that looks like panpipes. "She'll say yes." He walked over to a corner of the shop and held the pipes to his mouth. Just then my mom came walking over to me. I showed her the brochure and tried to pretend I really wanted to go. The entire time Zeke was playing the same eerie song over and over. My mom's eyes glazed over and said we better head to the camp as soon as possible. The next thing I knew I was standing at the top on a hill, my back to a huge pine tree watching my mom wave goodbye as she drove away.

I was pulled back to reality when the first temple came into view. It was dark, made of black onyx. Jagged edges shot towards the sky and the roof was covered with diamonds. I stared at awe and what must be the Pluto temple. It was like the Hades cabin back at camp times ten. I wasn't an architect like Annabeth but I was an artist. I could appreciate some of the design choices the camp made while constructing this marvel. I walked slowly around the building taking it all in. As I was coming around the other side I heard a voice. I froze, hidden in the shadow of the temple. Not far from me was a slightly larger temple made of polished marble and draped in red banners. Somewhere on the other side of the temple someone was speaking.

I quickly dashed across the gap between the two buildings and ducked behind the other temple. I crept around the side, getting close enough to make out what the person was saying. What I heard stopped me in my tracks.

"When the bed feels cold, and the food doesn't taste like home. When you're snatched out of your only world, and forced into another one. That's when your eyes burn. That's when the heartache starts," the voice was low and heavy with longing. My heart hammered against my ribs, trying to break out and run home. I bit my lip to stop tears from falling down my face. Silently I swung off my backpack and took out my sketchbook. I settled down on the grass, and began to draw.

I didn't hold back. I poured my emotions out on the paper. The feelings of abandonment and sorrow. Of complete isolation. Every emotion I've kept bottled up since I arrived at camp flowed out of me. Jagged lines mixed with flowing tears as they ran down my face and splattered the paper. I shaped them till my drawing resembled a half frozen waterfall that almost looked like a face.

"When it doesn't get better, though everyone said it would. When the scorn of others stings like an open wound. When what makes you special is a barrier to the outside world. That's when the tears fall. That's when the hope ends."

I pull out my colored pencils and add blues, purples, and deep reds to my sketch. I hid pained eyes, a mouth crying out, and silent tears in the flowing water. All the bottom was a deep cavern that held all the pain.

I blinked and wiped the tears from my eyes. I put my sketchbook back in my backpack and carefully stood up. All of the sudden I heard the rustling of paper. I stepped dealer onto the shadows of the temple and waited till the footsteps faded. I quickly ran down the hill and made my way to New Rome.

I was jogging towards the town line when a big stone statue popped up out of nowhere right in front of me. I froze mid-step and struggles to keep my balance. Then the statue started talking.

"Lyra Bowman," it thundered. I jumped. "Visiting Greek." I gulped.

"Yes?"

"Remove the belt full of knives and give them to my assistant," the statue nodded at the ground to his left. A little gapped toothed girl emerged from behind him holding out a tray.

"Um, wh-who exactly are you?" I asked, slowly unbuckling my belt.

"You mean none of the other legionaries bothered to tell you who I am?" The statue grumbled. I shook my head. He sighed. "I am Terminus. God of boundaries,"

"Nice to meet you," I mumbled, setting my belt on the little girls tray.

"Hmm, a demigod with manners. That's very rare. Why I could count the number of polite demigods I've met on one of my hands." I blinked. The statue, I mean Terminus, didn't have any hands. He didn't have any arms for that matter.

"Um, you don't have any hands," I said. Terminus scowled.

"Forget what I said about you being polite," he grumbled. "Now hurry up and get going. The senate meeting starts in ten minutes and as a formality all Greek visitors must attend." Senate meeting? What senate meeting?

I hurried across the border and into town. What I saw took my breath away. New Rome was amazing! Beautiful high arches perfectly complemented smooth marble walls and dancing cobblestone pathways. I had the sudden urge to pull out my camera and take tons of pictures. I'd have to do that later. I didn't have much time to the rest of my group before that meeting.

I followed the smell of fresh brownies to the bakery. Waiting for me in front of the shop was the rest of the campers from Camp Half-Blood. Drew was sitting in a chair filing her nails and looking as bored as always. The Stolls were standing near her, arguing about the best way to pick a lock on handcuffs. Nico was standing in the one shadow cast by the table umbrella. Will was standing beside him looking as chipper as ever. He was resting his arm on the son of Hades head. In contrast to Wills casual smile, Nico looked like he was about to rip Will's arm right out of its socket.

Katie was pacing nearby, her hands buried deep in her pockets. She looked up and saw me.

"Oh thank goodness," Katie ran over to my. She grabbed my shoulders and started pulling me towards the bakery. "You're late. Now there's an emergency senate meeting that's been called. I made sure everyone packed a toga and brought an extra one for you." Katie let go of me and bent down and pulled two sheets out of her bag. One was grass green and the other was a soft gold. She stuffed the gold one in my arms and quickly wrapped the green one around her, tucking it in various places until she had a full roman toga on. She then proceeded to help me out on mine. I flushed as I looked at my reflection in the bakery window. The sheet Katie brought was too short and only came about halfway down my shins, exposing my jeans. They didn't go all the way to my ankles like Katie's did. I was really tall for thirteen and the only people taller than me were guys and a few Ares campers. Despise not fitting me right the gold fabric did make my emerald green eyes shine. I nervously tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear and turned away from the window. Katie was yelling at the Stolls to hurry up as they tried to wrap togas around themselves while handcuffed. Drew and already figures out her toga, which was a light rose color, and was now fixing her makeup. Will had his toga on already, it was gold like mine, and was trying to help Nico straighten his, but Nico kept slapping his hands away saying he'll do it himself.

Katie walked over to me. She smiled and wrapped her arm around my shoulder.

"Ok so at the senate meeting we all sit according to rank. Since we're guests and don't have a rank we'll be sitting in the back. All of us except Nico who will be sitting with Annabeth up front. We are guests so just watch the meeting. Don't correct or interact. It's rude." Like I'd participate.

Katie straightened my tunic and pulled me along the pathway to the senate building. Once inside she helped everyone get seated. Nico separated from us and went down in the front left to sit next to Annabeth. Why she got to skip the speech was a mystery to me.

I sat down next to Katie and observed the rest of the senate. There were only about ten demigods besides us present. Twelve counting the two Preators, Reyna and Frank. Reyna was standing at a podium scanning a piece of paper in front of her. Frank was standing off to one side, his girlfriend Hazel helping him straighten his cape. He looked extremely nervous to be the center of attention. I felt a pang of sympathy for him. I'd hate to be up at that podium, preparing to address the crowd.

Suddenly the roar of a large crown filled the senate house. I turned around to see dozens of glowing purple ghosts drifting through the doorway. They took their seats behind us. Katie glanced at my shocked expression and smiled.

"They're Lars," she said. "Household ghosts. There's tons around the town and barracks. Don't worry they're harmless." I nodded hesitantly and turned back around, trying to ignore the fact that the senate house was filled with dead people.

"Attention," back at the podiums Reyna was trying to silence the room. "Attention everyone." The Lars continues talking. Reyna looked towards Nico and gave him an exasperated look. He turned around to face the Lars and put a finger to his lips. The Lars become silent. He turned back to Reyna.

"Thank you," she mouthed. "Ok," she raised her voice. "I call this meeting to order. As some of you might already know there are reports of a cyclops not far from camp. This monster is getting to close for my liking. Praetor Zhang and I have decided to sent a group of demigods to take care of the monster before it gets too close to camp. The group will leave at dawn. Praetor Zhang?" Frank approached the other podium.

"Do we have any volunteers to lead the quest?" He asked. I scanned the crowd, wondering who would actually voluntarily fight a cyclops. Apparently not everyone thought it sounded as terrifying as I did. A kid in the front row stood up. She was pretty short with raven black hair cut short and clear blue eyes.

"I'll lead the quest," the girl volunteered. Reyna nodded in approval.

"Alright, choose two members of your cohort to accompany you."

Next to my Will coughed uncertainty. Reyna looked in his direction.

"Yes Will Solace," Reyna said. Will stood up.

"Do you really think only three demigods are enough to take down a cyclops?" Every head turned towards Will. I sank lower in my seat to avoid their harsh gaze. I guess people didn't question Reyna very much. Reyna's facial expression didn't change but even from here I could see her tense up.

"Marie is a seasoned legionary. And I'm sure she will pick only the most qualified to join her on this quest," Reyna said stiffly.

"Still there's safety in numbers," Will replied. "Maybe some of us could come with you."

"My soldiers will be fine,"

"But-"

"Will," Katie hissed, cutting him off. "Sit down. Their camp. They can do what they want." Will sighed and sat back down.

"All in favor of the decision reached?" Reyna asked. A chorus of "aye"s echoed through the senate. Frank passed the motion and the meeting was closed.


	3. Jem Kendrick 2

Jem

"Order 17!" the cashier called, holding a decent sized brownie and a cappuccino.

I weasel through the crowd to pick it up, murmuring my thanks and slipping a sizeable amount in the tip jar. No reason to be cheap in New Rome. The woman's face brightens and she gives me some extra whipped cream before sending me off with a cheery "Have a nice day!"

I polish off the brownie in no time- I may or may not have skipped lunch to eavesdrop on the meeting- and I mill around aimlessly, sipping my drink. I generally avoid coffee but today is an exception. The Senate meeting just closed, so centurions and Greeks are coming to the bakery for a snack.

The Greeks stand in a circle, chatting about whatever it is they talk about. I edge closer, hoping to hear something about the meeting.

"Three for a Cyclops? I thought Percy was overconfident but he may have been outdone," The blond one was saying. I don't like him- of course I don't like a lot of good-looking people.

"They're Romans," a girl says. "Maybe they're just better equipped to deal with this than we are. Their training's more rigorous." Blondie snorts.

"Where is this Cyclops anyway?" the Asian one asks. She doesn't seem very interested in the conversation- she's twirling her hair and eyeing Frank Zhang. He's talking to his girlfriend Hazel. Ignoring the lump in my throat, I listen for the response intently- this is what I need to know.

"Some small town about half an hour north from here," the daughter of Demeter says. She smiles. "Guess what it's called."

"We know, Katie," one of the brothers rolls his eyes. "Jacksonville."

"No one tell Percy," the shorter brother says. "We'll never hear the end of it." The group laughs.

Jacksonville. Not far north from here. All I need to know. I slink away, purposefully avoiding the Asian one's eye (does she have a thing for other Asians?)

Tonight I'll have to sneak out. With weapons and rations. I purse my lips, thinking. Romans don't spare any expense when it comes to keeping their people safe. Sneaking out will be just as hard as sneaking in. But I'll pull it off. They'll be glad I did it after I help take down the Cyclops. I think.

I try to pack a bag. What exactly does one take to defeat a Cyclops? Water, some dry rations...ugh, this is harder than I thought, Forget the bag. No wait keep it. I don't know! I throw it at a tree, frustrated.

Jem, remember what Gram said about temper. Breathe in, breathe out.

I run my hand through my hair and examine supplies again. Water and food (essential), my blowgun, my darts- regular ones, Imperial Gold ones, and poison-tipped ones-, some ambrosia I snuck out of the infirmary, twin knives (one steel, one Imperial Gold- stolen from the armory) hidden up my sleeves, a compass, a flashlight, a map and some matches. I'm dressed in all black. I can't think of anything else I might need, but I still feel like something's missing.

I groan when I realize. My notebook! I never picked it up from Bellona's temple. What if someone finds it? My name isn't in it, but I've practiced writing Korean in there and it wouldn't take long for a legionnaire to figure out who wrote it- there are only so many Asians in camp. I'll be more of a laughingstock than I already am- the son of war writing poetry, About feelings.

I have to go get it. I stash my supplies in a tree- not many Romans go climbing trees, especially not by the Little Tiber. I pull off my black sweatshirt (people look suspicious in all black), straighten my T-shirt, smooth down my hair and walk back to New Rome.

I turn a corner by the stables and almost bump into Hazel Levesque. I panic, backpedal, and end up falling on my butt in the mud. Real smooth, Jem.

"Sorry!" Hazel cries. She helps me up. "I'm really sorry Jem, I didn't see you there." I shrug.

"It's fine," I murmur, as I quickly walk to the temples. I really hate admitting it because her boyfriend's the praetor, but I like Hazel. Even after finding out that she's from the past, I can't help myself. She's cute, she's sweet, she's really fierce in a fight. I like that combination.

But she went away on that quest, and when she came back, she was dating our suddenly buff new praetor, Zhang. And he deserves her- he's a war hero, and he's a really nice guy. I've never figured out how to be nice. It's something Gram enjoyed lecturing me about.

I hiss through my teeth when I realize how close the sun is to the horizon. By the time I get to Bellona's temple, grab my journal, and get back to my gear, it'll be too dark for my plan to work- I need some light to be able to sneak out. I abruptly stop walking, rubbing my hands together.

Maybe the notebook will be safe until I come back. Not many people go up to Bellona's temple. And who's to say they would spot a notebook, or pick it up? It might actually be safer if I leave it behind- a Cyclops fight can do dangerous things to a flimsy book. And I have all the important poems memorized.

I shove my hands in my pockets and skirt around the stables on the way back to the Little Tiber. Leaving my notebook behind is hard, but I can't afford to lose this opportunity because of some sentiment. Feelings are not for sons of war.

I crouch by the tunnel to the highway. Two guards as usual- both from the 4th cohort. This shouldn't be too hard. I have enough light left to make a distraction work.

I press myself into the shadows, and slowly creep into the tunnel, heart in my throat. If I'm caught, I'll be a probatio for even longer and get assigned to all the hard tasks again. But I'm pretty confident I won't. I fervently wish I had Nico's shadow travelling.

I stop and crouch low again. The guards haven't noticed me- they wouldn't dream anyone would be trying to sneak out of camp. Nervous, I run my thumb over one of the pebbles I picked up. They might not go for it, in which case I'll have to backtrack.

Quickly, silently, I fling the pebble over their heads. It crashes into a tree, making a satisfying rustle and thud. I wait. One of them peers over at the tree, but doesn't move. I toss the second pebble while they're distracted. It lands somewhere else with a crunch. The guard on the left goes to investigate. The one on the right stays in position, keeping a lookout. I've yet to be noticed. I toss my last pebble in a high arc and it lands with a loud splash in a puddle. The second guard leaves as well.

I dart out of the tunnel. I learned to run on a beach, where the sand shifts under your feet and tries to send you sprawling. On firm ground, I can practically fly.

The guard by the puddle notices me.

"Hey, stop!" she calls, running after me. The other one runs back to the tunnel to raise the alarm. I keep my hood up and head down, not wanting the girl to recognize me. Not that there was any way she could catch me at this speed. She's slowed down by her armor, and I have too much of a head start.

The guard chasing me eventually gives up. I don't stop running though- I go for a full five minutes before finally slowing down and stopping. The camp is well behind me. I glance at the sun. It's close to the horizon. I've been heading west- Jacksonville is north of the camp. I have to get back on track before I lose the light completely. The flashlight I brought with me isn't exactly reliable. I take a deep breath, turn myself to the north, and keep running.

I pull my shoes and socks off and rub my aching feet before dipping them in the stream. The cold water running over them feels good. Sighing, I lay down, gazing up at the night sky. I know a few constellations but I'm too tired to pick them out

I glance at my watch. It's 4 in the morning. I'm making good time. The team of three will be sent out at dawn, which comes around 6 this time of year. They'll have a car, so they should reach Jacksonville by 6:30 if the roads are clear. If my calculations are correct, I should reach Jacksonville within an hour, which means I can take this last stretch pretty leisurely and conserve my energy. I smirk to myself, imagining the looks on their faces when they show up and find me and the remains of the Cyclops.

But for now, I can probably rest a little longer. I pull my feet out of the stream and let them dry on the grass. I close my eyes, resting them for a bit. I tried to squeeze in some naps earlier in the day but I'm still tired. Five minutes of relaxing and I'll get up, I tell myself. Just five minutes…

I wake up with a sky is turning lighter. Wait...sky? Where am I? I bolt upright, and the memories come back. I fell asleep! Panicking, I find my watch. 5:40. Crap!

I scramble to my feet, pulling on my shoes. If I hurry- and if their car has a breakdown- I can still make it in time to take down the Cyclops. Cursing in Latin and Korean, I grab my backpack and make my way back to the highway to get my bearings.

The road is almost empty. Not many people seem headed towards Jacksonville. I decide I can risk staying on the highway for a while- I'll make quicker time than if I fight my way through wildlife.

I break into a jog down the highway. I have a pretty healthy stamina, but I'm still probably going to be worn out when I get there. Still, I have to try.

The sky gets lighter and lighter as I resolutely make my way to Jacksonville. Eventually the sun breaches the horizon, and I know the team will be starting out from Camp Jupiter. I leave the highway, not wanting them to spot me when they eventually show. I shouldn't have to be cutting it close like this, but I don't have a choice.

At 6:20, a jeep zooms past, the SPQR visible on the side. I bite back a curse. I was starting to think I might be able to make it before them but apparently not. Still, I'll only be a few minutes behind. And I might just be able to find the Cyclops before them.

When I eventually make it into town, I find the jeep parked in front of a grocery store. All three of them seem to be inside- that should take them a few minutes. Retreating into another street. I pull off my sweatshirt and stuff it in my backpack, relieved at having the sweaty warmth off of my body.

Cyclops tend to hang about in or around big, abandoned buildings, like factories. Jacksonville doesn't seem like the type of place to have a broken down factory though. What would a small town have?

I notice a sign advertising a grain auction, and it clicks. A barn! Probably a place like this has a few abandoned barns out in the country. I just have to find the one with a big one-eyed monster inside. Piece of cake.

I hear voices, and car doors slamming. The legionnaires seem to have finished their break. I quickly crouch and duck my head- but they're not starting yet. Instead, I hear something like an argument. I listen, hoping to hear something helpful.

"I don't care if you think we should have brought more swords for two reasons! One, because there's only one Cyclops. Two, because it's too freaking late to do anything about it now!" I stifle a smile. Marie, despite being smaller than most people at camp, had the loudest voice. It makes sense that she would lead this quest.

"Can we stop arguing about swords and focus on finding the Cyclops?" Shane asks. For once, I agree with him. I need information. "Cyclops tend to hide around big, abandoned buildings," he continues, voicing my earlier thoughts. He has a knack for thinking like the enemy. He's a good strategist, and he and Marie always make a solid team. I've never liked him much though. Bit of a know-it-all.

"We saw some barns on the way in," Ian points out. Ian is the muscle on this team. Not the brightest bulb. But he's smart enough to follow orders and put two and two together, and that's all Romans want from their legionnaires.

"Good thinking," Marie tells him. "We'll do a quick circle, find the ones that look rundown and investigate them." With Marie, a circle always means clockwise. I can do that. But it'll still be hard to get there ahead of them.

I make my way down the street I'm on until the questors fade out of earshot. Then I sprint out into the cornfields towards the nearest barn.

The first one I check is in prime condition. No monsters in sight. At the second one, I have to jump into a haystack to avoid Marie and Shane. I make sure I hear the jeep leaving before I climb out. The third barn isn't too far away. The jeep is parked outside when I get there. I eye the barn. It isn't in bad shape. I don't hear anything inside. Maybe I should just head to the next one.

As I turn to leave, I hear a thump and then a clatter from the other side. It doesn't sound like a Cyclops, but it doesn't seem like any animal either. The team is still inside. I decide to check out the noise. Unsheathing my knives, I silently creep around the side of the barn.

There's another thump and heavy breathing. A person. Or a monster imitating a person. With a yell, I turn the corner, swinging up my knives, ready to defend myself.

Whatever I was expecting to see, it's not one of the Greeks. Especially not the doe-eyed one I ran into just yesterday. But it's her. We stare at each other in shock for a few seconds. Then she shrieks and attacks me.

She has all the strength of a demigod, that's for sure. Her Greek training shows- she slashes at me instead of stabbing. But I can play that way too. I block all her attacks. She may be strong, but I caught her off guard so she's unfocused.

"Wait!" I call out, ducking and blocking. "Listen, I'm a demigod too!" She doesn't let up, probably not believing me. I hiss through my teeth in frustration, before disengaging and walking backwards a few steps. She holds her dagger down, eying me warily.

"My name is Jem Kendrick. I'm a son of Bellona from Camp Jupiter" I tell her. "I'm here to-" I can't finish my sentence because she charges me again. This time, I'm ready. I block with one knife and feint a thrust at her waist with the other. She flinches, and I take the opportunity to grab her arm and flip her. She lands heavily on her back. I quickly kick her dagger out of reach and hold my Imperial gold knife to her throat.

"Will you please listen to me Graecus?" I snap, losing patience. "I'm a demigod. I snuck out of camp to hunt down the Cyclops. From the looks of it, I'm guessing that's what you're here for too. Now I'm going to let you up. Attack me again, and I won't hesitate to tie you up and leave you on the side of the road. Understand?

"Yes," she whispers, eyes wide and a little scared. I pull my knife away from her throat and sheath it, not taking my eyes off her. She scrambles to her feet, dusts herself off and hunts down her dagger in the tall grass. She's fairly tall- only two inches shorter than me. Her brown hair fades to blonde at the tips. She's dressed in black leggings and a green shirt, and her pale face and arms are dirty. Of course, mine are too.

"Got a name, Porcelain?" I ask, settling on a nickname besides Graecus.

"Lyra. Lyra Bowman," she replies, seemingly unfazed by the nickname. "I'm a child of Apollo."

"Well, Lyra, it's your lucky day because you won't have to be facing this ugly Cyclops," I peer back at the jeep as I say this. They haven't come out yet. Still, it's only been a few minutes.

"Excuse me?" She said indignantly, crossing her arms. "I didn't come all this way to have some boy tell me what I'm going to do."

"Well, I didn't spend the last night swatting mosquitoes and wading through creeks to have some Greek steal my quest," I fire back. "You, a daughter of Apollo, take down a Cyclops by herself? Please. Go home and sing with the birds or something." I turn my back on her and walk to the front of the barn.

"You're the one who snuck out of camp?" she calls.

"Unless there was someone else besides you, yes," I respond.

"Well done."

I pause and glance back at her. "Why the change of tone?" I ask, wary of some kind of trick.

"Well, it really was clever. I only managed to get out because you distracted the guards- I couldn't have made it on my own like you did," She says. She's wringing her hands like she's worried.

I'm usually good at sensing when someone is trying to manipulate me, and this girl isn't. She doesn't seem like the type.

"The thing is, you're probably right," she continues. "I haven't had enough training to take down a Cyclops on my own. I don't know what I was thinking." She sighs. "I guess I just wanted to prove I wasn't useless." Her voice is thick. I know that tone- I've used it many times myself when fighting back tears. And wanting to prove you're not useless? Olympus knows I have too much experience with that feeling.

I sigh, running my hand through my hair. "Porcelain," She looks up. I gulp, not believing I'm about to say this. "Backup never hurts," I admit slowly. "And maybe your little Greek mind will come up with something I can't." I'm really just saying it to make her feel better- I doubt this girl will be helpful against a Cyclops- but maybe it's true. "Who's to say we can't share the glory?" Share the glory with a Graecus? Please. But I doubt she'll let me argue her into staying away, and I don't have the time or patience to try.

Her face lights up. "You won't regret this Jem!" she says, smiling. Gods, I hope I don't.

"Come on. We have to find the next barn. This one is empty," I say, pulling my backpack on. She follows me to the front of the barn.

The jeep is still there. I frown. Odd.

"Marie? Shane?" I call, not caring about blowing my cover. They might be in trouble. Lyra squeaks, surprised, but I shush her.

"Who's there?" Marie yelled, same authoritative clip in her voice. "I'm warning you, I'm armed!"

"It's Jem!" I call, relieved.

" _Jem?_ Why would Jem be here?" Shane's know-it-all tone floated out. "You're a Cyclops aren't you? We have Imperial Gold, you know." I roll my eyes.

"It really is Jem," I tell him. "I was the one who snuck out of camp. I'm here to help."

"Get in here with your hands in the air!" Marie calls.

Lyra looks worried. I smile at her, hoping I look reassuring, and I walk into the barn with my hands behind my head. Lyra follows.

The door slams shut, blocking out the light except for a window high above. Immediately I know something's wrong. "Guys?" I call, afraid of the answer.

There's some shuffling, then a response. "We're right here, Jem," Marie's voice comes from the shadows in front of me. Something about it seems different. "Right...here." Her voice distorts into a hoarse, deep tone. Oh no.

A large foot emerges from the shadows, followed by a proportionate body and bald head. A large, beady eye stares down at us. "And you're just in time for dinner," The Cyclops leers.

I hear Lyra murmur in Greek while I silently curse at myself. Despite all my common sense and good instincts, I led us straight into a trap.


	4. Lyra Bowman 2

Lyra

I stared, horrified at the beast in front of me. My knees started to shake and I resisted the urge to hide behind Jem. I tighten my grip on my dagger and silently curse Will under my breath. If he hadn't insisted on back up. Volunteered me to go.

"You're always talking about a way to prove yourself," he had said while packing me a bag. "Now's your chance."

I was pulled back into the present by Jem. He grabbed my arm and pulled me behind him, leveling his knife at the Cyclops. I scowled. I didn't need protecting.

"Stay here," he whispered, keeping his eyes on the monster. My scowl deepened. "I take the Cyclops. You dart around him and try to find the other Roman campers." The Cyclops watched us talk, amused. He didn't seem very concerned about the concept fighting us.

Jem slowly pulled something long and thin from his side and held it up to his face. Suddenly something small and golden flew through the air towards the Cyclops's neck. He stumbled, caught by surprise, and clamped his hand on his neck.

"What the heck was that?" I hissed in Jem's ear.

"A dart," he whispered. Before I could ask any follow up questions he dove to the left, put what I now realized was a blowgun back up to his mouth and fired another dart. This one hit the Cyclops in the chin. Sand trickled down his chest as he wrenched the dart out of his face. Cautiously I crept around the opposite side of the barn, hoping Jem's plan worked and the Cyclops kept his attention on Jem. My hope was short lived.

"Where do you think you're going," the cyclops growled. He turned and took a swipe at me. I ducked under him hand and stumbled to my feet. He raised his foot to flatten me when another dart flew across the barn and hit him in the thigh. He lurched forward missing me by an inch. Before I could comprehend how scared I was I whirled around and buried my dagger in his shin. The cyclops bellowed in pain. I ran through his legs and was met by Jem.

"What happened to the plan Porcelain?" he said angrily.

"Sorry," I mumbled, unsheathing a knife from my belt. "I'm not very good at stealth."

"I noticed," he snorted. Behind him the cyclops lurched forward.

"Duck," I yelled, taking a step back. Jem hit the deck. I grasped my knife tightly in my hand and threw it at the oncoming arm. The blade hit the monsters palm, burying itself hilt deep in his hand. The arm began to turn into dust, showering us with monster residue. Jem coughed and straightened up

"Nice work Porcelain," he said, grinning at me. The grin quickly vanished. "Lyra watch-" before he could finish what he was going to say something heavy slammed into my back, pinning me to the ground. I gasped in pain as strong fingers closed around my body. I was lifted on the ground and up to the Cyclops's face. His crooked teeth revealed themselves as he smiled hungrily.

"Let's see how much I can squeeze you before your head pops," he said, his breath making my eyes water.

His grip tightened. I gasped, trying to keep calm even though a cyclops was trying to pop me like a zit! I wriggled my legs in an attempt to free myself, but only succeeding in making the cyclops laugh. My head began to spin as it got harder and harder to breath. My vision darkened and I felt myself losing consciousness.

Suddenly the pressure around my middle vanished and I fell to the ground, landing on my left arm with a sickening crunch. My vision cleared just enough to to see Jem standing on the Cyclops's shoulder, his knife buried in its shoulder. The cyclops toppled to the ground. The force of the impact threw Jem from the monster. He sat there dazed as the Cyclops raised his leg to squash Jem flat. I pulled another knife from my belt with my good hand and as my vision returned to black I hurtled the knife at the Cyclopes.

I dreamt I was in an old farm house. The paint was peeling from the walls and the shutters slammed against the wall with each passing breeze. It was dark but I could just make out seven or eight figures crowded against the far wall. Three were in seated in chairs. The others were standing around them, whispering urgently. Suddenly one turned around and spotted me. The figure hissed and raked its claws at me, tearing my dream apart.

I woke with a start. I was on my back staring up at a rickety old barn roof. Wait, what? I shook my head as the memories flooded back into my head. I groaned and tried to sit up. A searing pain in my arm and side stopped me cold. I looked down. A large purple bruise stretched across my side from my navel to the small of my back. I winced and looked over at my arm. It was sloppily wrapped from shoulder to wrist in white gauze.

"Oh good. You're awake," I tore my gaze away from my injuries to see Jem digging through my backpack.

"What are you doing?" I gasp, struggling to prop myself up with my good arm.

"Chill out Porcelain. I ran out of gauze so I was seeing if you had any," he pulled a small sack from my page and dumped the contents onto the ground. A baggie of ambrosia, a thermos full of nectar, some gauze, and a thin sliver tube file with special healing cream tumbled out. Jem picked up the gauze and started towards me.

"You wouldn't need more gauze of you'd have used less on my arm," I said, pulling myself into a sitting position. I unwrapped the gauze around my arm and checked the damage. Nothing seemed too bad just a dislocated shoulder which Jem hadn't even put gauze over.

"Come here," I said, motioning him to come closer with my good arm. "My shoulder's dislocated. I need you to push it back into place."

"Ok," he kneeled down next to me. "How do I do that?"

"Put one hand on my upper arm," I instructed. Jem shifted into a sitting position and set his hand on my arm. I winced. "Now put the other hand on my shoulder, near my neck." I gasped in pain as Jem set his other hand on my shoulder.

"Ok," I said, trying to keep my voice level. "Now push my arm up, then back until I tell you to stop." Jem glanced at me, looking a bit nervous, then nodded.

A searing pain tore through my body as Jem forced my shoulder up. I cried out as Jem pushed it back into its socket.

"Stop," I gasped. Jem dropped my arm. The pain was quickly replaced with a dull throb. I slowly rotated my shoulder experimentally.

"You ok Porcelain?" He asked, handing me the thermos of nectar. I nodded and accepted the bottle.

A warm sensation flowed through me as I look a long drink of nectar. I smiled as the taste rested on my tongue. Hot chocolate with a dash of vanilla. My mom would make it for me every winter to keep me warm. The good feeling faded quickly as I realized how long it's been since I'd seen my mom. I set the nectar down, no longer thirsty, and turned my attention back to my injuries.

I carefully ran my fingers across my side. I winced. Two broken ribs and a bruised one.

"Hand me the silver tube please," I said to Jem. He reached over and pulled my backpack and the medical supplies closer to him. He picked up the tube and handed it to me. I twisted the cap off and squeezed some of the pale grey cream. Carefully I dabbed a little on my side.

Jem looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Is that gonna take long," I scowled.

"I'm sorry but broken ribs tend to take more than a few minutes to heal," I snapped. A look of concern flashed across Jem's face before it was replaced with a stubborn sort of look.

"May I remind you three legionaries are still missing?" My scowl deepened.

"It would go quicker if you actually helped me,"

"Who do you think bandaged your arm while you were unconscious,"

I gave Jem an exasperated look. He sighed.

"Fine," he grumbled. He sat back down next to me.

"Be careful," I said, handing him the tube. He took it and squeezed more cream out of it. I continued to dab some of the cream on my side as Jem spread more closer to the small of my back. A shiver ran up my spine. I froze. Slowly I turned to face Jem. He had stopped to squeeze a little more cream from the tube. He looked up, catching my eyes. I found myself staring into his eyes. Behind the hardened exterior he had a kind of dark sadness in them.

"What?" He asked. I blinked.

"Nothing," I said, looking away. I blew a stray hair away from my face and turned my attention back to my broken ribs.

When we were done I wiped my hands off on the used gauze.

"Ok stand back," I told Jem. He scooted away from me. I closed my eyes and started to hum.

The paste started glowing a faint gold. I wrinkled my brow and imagined the broken ribs mending themselves. I felt the pain lessen until it disappeared all together.

I stopped humming. The glow died and the paste turned flaky and began to fall off. I brushed away the flakes and checked the wound. I felt for any additional injuries and found none.

"Better?" Jem asked. I grinned. That was the first time I had ever used the healing correctly!

"Yes," I answered, pulling myself to my feet. I picked up my thermos, gauze, and tube of cream and packed it back in the pullstring bag.

"You seem happy," Jem remarked. "What's that humming thing you did? Some Apollo thing?"

"Yeah," I answered absentmindedly.

"Oh," he stuck his hands in his pocket awkwardly. "I didn't know Greeks could do that."

Something about the way he said it made me feel self-conscious. I hauled the bag over my good shoulder, hoping to break the sudden tension. There was a thud, and my sketchbook slid across the floor, stopping by Jem's feet. The awkwardness I felt increased.

I winced as Jem stooped down and picked up the sketchbook.

"What's this?" He asked

"N-nothing," I stuttered. I walked quickly over to him, silently sending up multiple prayers to my dad that Jem doesn't open the book.

Surprisingly Jem doesn't even look down at the cover. Instead he just holds it out for me to take back. Cautiously I take it back.

"Thanks," I said, tucking the sketchbook back into my bag and zipping it closed.

Jem shrugged.

"We should probably get going," he said, shouldering his own bag. I nodded in agreement and followed him out the barn door.

"Do you know where we're going?" I asked. Jem stopped walking.

"No," he admitted. "But I figured we'd just check the rest of the barns until we find the other legionaries."

"They're not in a barn," I said absentmindedly.

"What makes you say that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"While I was unconscious I had a dream," I told him.

"How could you have had a dream? You weren't even unconscious for an hour,"

"I don't know," I said impatiently. "Maybe it has something to do with my dad having influence over the Oracle. Do you want to hear the dream or not?"

"Of course I want to hear the dream," he said it like it was obvious.

"Then why were you just arguing with me about why I had one?"

"Just tell me what you dreamt about," I scowled and told him about the run down farm house and shadowy figures.

"And you think that's where Marie, Shane, and Ian are?" He asked skeptically.

"I'm positive," I said.

"So where exactly is this farm house?" Jem's skepticism was really getting on my nerves. It's not like they didn't have Apollo kids at Camp Jupiter.

"About a mile and a half that way," I said, pointing to the north-east. How I knew that I wasn't sure but Will did things like that all the time. He likes to annoy me by finishing my sentences.

"And how do you know that?" Jem asked, his eyebrow raising up so far it was hidden in his hair.

"Just follow me," I huffed. I turned away from Jem and started in the direction of the farmhouse.

"So Porcelain," Jem began after a period of silence. "How were you planning on sneaking out of camp?"

I reached behind me and drew a small vial of clear liquid out of my backpack and showed it to Jem.

"What's that?" He asked.

"It's a kind of anesthesia," I said. "It's mixed with a sleeping charm so the patient will stay under and not feel any pain. I was going to see if the guards had drinks I could slip it in. The only problem is I'm not sure how long it takes to kick in. I've never used it before. But then when I went up to the tunnel I heard yelling. I went to check and I saw both guards away from their post. I ran as fast as I could to the nearest tree line. Before I realized it I was way of course. So I hailed a taxi and got a ride to Jacksonville."

"You were going to drug fellow demigods, with no previous experience?" Jem asked incredulously.

"I haven't exactly had much time to master many medical techniques," I admitted sheepishly. "I've only been at camp for a few months."

"When did you get to camp?"

"Late July," I answered. Jem stared at me, wide eyed.

"You got to camp during the Great War?" He said, astonished. I nodded feebly. "How did you get around the roman army?"

"I got there the day before they did,"

"Did you fight in the war," I hesitated before answering.

"Yes..."

"Seriously," Jem scowled. "I've been going to Camp Jupiter for six months and they let a newbie who's only been at camp for a few days fight. Ridiculous!"

"It's not as glamorous as it sounds," I mumbled bitterly.

"Proving yourself on the battle, in the midst of the action, fighting for a noble cause. What are you complaining about? I've never had that opportunity," Jem argued, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"Death is what I'm complaining about," I spat. "Watching half-blood after half-blood fall to the ground, covered in blood. Being a child of Apollo and knowing you should help but you can barely keep yourself alive let alone help the fallen. Watching you best friend die inches from you and not being able to use the only thing that could possible save her life because they gave it to you that morning without any explanation. Watching her being buried with the rest of the casualties, knowing you could've saved her if you only wouldn't tried a little harder!" I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep tears from pouring down my face and failing miserably.

Jem took a slow step forward and awkwardly patted my shoulder. I shrugged him off, wishing I had the courage and strength to punch him in the face. He shouldn't talk like that about thinks he doesn't understand.

"Look, Porcelain. I'm the son of Bellona. The son of war. And I don't know what that means to Greeks, but to Romans, it means that you're expected to be a warrior. In Rome, war is all about the glory. Never about the loss," He sighs. "So sometimes, we forget that the loss exists."

"You don't forget after you've experienced it," I mumbled, wiping away the tears.

"Of course you don't," He agrees. "I wouldn't know, but it doesn't take a genius to know that. Which kind of makes me an idiot." He laughed awkwardly.

"You're not an idiot," I said, pulling wet strands of hair away from my face. "Your actually really smart. You're just inexperienced."

"Says the teenager who was going to drug someone with untested medicine," he teased. I rolled my eyes.

"Let's change the subject," I suggested. "Where did you live before camp?"

"Virginia," he answered vaguely. "Just me, my dad, and my grandma."

"What's your family like?"

"Just an average family I guess," Still vague. "How's yours?"

"I live with my mom in Rhode Island," I said. "She's ridiculously over protective but I know she means well."

"Sounds like the opposite of my dad," He said dryly. I frowned

"Why? What's you dad like?" Jem shrugged.

"Distant. He would have probably forgotten to feed me when I was a kid if it wasn't for my Gram," He absentmindedly kicked at the dirt. "It's not that he didn't like me. He's just not a father."

I took a small step in Jem's direction.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. He jerked away, noticing my movement.

"Don't be. I had my Gram, and that's all I needed," He said tightly, closing off again.

"Well what's she like?" I asked, hoping Jem's grandma wasn't as touchy of a subject.

"She was a grandma," He said. "She baked, and she knitted, and she sang lullabies. Not much to her."

"Was?" I thought for a moment. "Did something happen to her?" I asked in a very small voice.

Jem was quiet for a moment. "I should scout ahead for a bit," he said finally.

"Hold on," I stopped him just before he was about to sprint off. "Jem is everything ok?"

"You're not the only one who knows about death, Porcelain," he said in a thick voice.

"Jem," I whispered softly.

"I think we're getting close to something," Jem said stiffly, pointing to a small broken down house not far from us. "Is that the house you saw in your dream?" I nodded, a feeling of dread filling me.

"I'm not sure-" Suddenly I was flying through the air. A searing pain tore through my shoulder and I was yanked in the opposite direction. I was suddenly back on my feet, Jem's hand firmly holding my elbow.

"Are you ok?" Jem asked. I glanced behind me. What an idiot. I'd tripped over a tree root.

"I'm fine," I tried to pull my arm out of his grasp but stopped when it send shooting pains across my chest. "On second thought give me a minute," I mumbled, leaning gently on the tree behind me.

"Ok," Jem let go of my arm. "I'll go scout the place out."

"Jem you really shouldn't go in there alone," I said, carefully rotating my shoulder.

"I'll be fine Porcelain," he said, a hint of frustration in his voice. Without even giving me time to reply he turned around and started jogging towards the farmhouse.

I scowled at his quickly receding back and pulled my thermos of nectar from my backpack and took a sip. Almost instantly the pain vanished. I rotated my shoulder to get rid of any lasting soreness and put my nectar away.

Suddenly a sharp pain awoke in my temple. Something bad was about to happen. Something really bad.

I shouldered my backpack and took off running towards the farmhouse and towards Jem.


	5. Jem Kendrick 3

I examine the farmhouse. It looks empty. Hesitantly, I raise my fist to knock on the door. It swings open easily at my touch. I unsheathe my knives and step inside.

I try not to think about my conversation with Lyra. She's young, and she obviously isn't good at reading people, but her questions dragged up memories I'd buried in the back of my mind. Hugging Gram goodbye. Telling her not to forget her medicine. And barely two months later, getting a letter that held only two words: She's gone. I didn't even get to go to the funeral.

Holding back tears, I peer around the inside of the house. It's sufficiently lit, but there's an open door on the back wall leading into another, darker room.

Ignoring every instinct that screams at me to get the heck out of here, I walk into the next room, ready to face another Cyclops or something worse. I need to get my mind off the memories, no matter how reckless it seems.

There's nothing in the room that I can see. I hear noises though- shuffling, sliding whispers, breathing. The light barely illuminates a switch on the wall a few feet away from me. Deciding I'd rather face my enemies then be attacked in the dark, I flip the switch.

Light floods the room. I hiss and blink quickly, trying to get adjusted so I can attack. I hear female laughter. Blinking, I finally take in my surroundings.

There are three bodies in the corner, bound, gagged and unconscious. No doubt they're Marie, Shane and Ian. The boys are already bleeding from deep bites in their neck. Marie is bruised, but unbitten.

The laughter is coming from the empousai in the room. There are at least six of them, surrounding me. They don't seem particularly concerned. They've stopped laughing, but are still looking at me with amused smiles on their faces. I've never encountered empousai before, but these match the textbook description perfectly- beautiful girls with one donkey leg and one bronze leg each.

I angle my Imperial Gold knife to slash instead of stab- it may be un Roman fighting, but it'll cause the most damage. I know how empousai work. They'll try to seduce me so they can drink my blood, and I am not planning on going like that. Pathetic way to die. But I have to make sure I have the mental strength to resist.

Just imagine resisting that Asian girl, I tell myself. She would probably fit right in with this group.

"James Kendrick," the leader croons. "How nice to see you." She has dark brown hair and eyes, and is easily the tallest.

"We've been waiting for someone like you," A blonde with a musical voice tells me as she moves to stand behind me, cutting off my escape route.

"Why?" I ask, pointing my knife at another blonde before she could talk. "Asian blood a delicacy for you lot?" Sarcasm tends to be first line of defense.

They all laugh again. This laughter is less mocking, more pleasant. I lower my knife, wary.

"He's funny, too!" The blonde I was threatening gasps between laughs. "Marie told us he's strong and brave, but she didn't mention a sense of humor!"

If they were interrogating Marie, it would explain how they know me. Marie, who's unconscious in the corner and needs to be saved. I latch on to that thought to keep myself from lowering my guard further.

"What other hidden qualities do you have, young hero?" A redhead floats in front of me. "Care to show us?" She brushes my cheek with the back of her hand. She smells like roses. I think I like roses.

"Well, I have a few tricks I could show off," I admit unsurely. Why would these girls want to see anything I have to offer?

"Show us, then," The blonde behind me strokes the back of my neck. The other girls repeat the request, gathering about me. More hands touch me- stroking my shoulders, running through my hair, brushing my face. The scent of roses is overpowering. I relax, the tension leaving my body, as a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

There's a sharp zing by my ear, and a bronze knife sinks into the shoulder of the brunette. Sand spills out.

I snap out of the trance as the lead empousa hisses and yanks the knife out of her shoulder. Sand spills out of the wound. The empusai whirl around to face the new threat.

Before I have time to fully comprehend what happened, another knife buries itself in the ribcage of the blonde empousai next to me. She howls and staggers backwards before dissolving. I quickly duck and roll to the side, away from the empousai. I end up behind some crates.

From my new vantage point, I can see the knife-thrower. I highly doubt I'll ever be this happy to see a Greek again. Lyra has another knife out, but she doesn't throw this one. Her first two throws were direct hits, but she seems to have lost her nerve. She took out one empousa and now she has Blondie's five angry sisters intent on her.

She has an advantage I don't- she's female. They can't try to seduce her. But she hasn't had a lot of training. Her chances against five empousai aren't good.

The brunette leaps at her, hissing and swiping. Porcelain quickly sidesteps and manages to sink a knife into the small of her back, dissolving her. I watch the remaining four empousai. They seem undaunted by the loss of their leader. Slowly, they spread out and surround Lyra.

I want to run out and help, but I don't trust myself to keep my head. Instead, I slowly creep around the room to get to the unconscious legionnaires, keeping my eyes on the fight. Marie might be able to help if I can revive her.

The blonde and the redhead simultaneously attack Lyra. She shrieks and ducks, and the empousai nearly swipe each other on accident. Porcelain quickly slashes the blonde's donkey leg, opening up a wide gash. Blondie II stumbles and falls backwards.

I put my blowgun to my lips and exhale with air from my diaphragm. The dart hits the redhead in the throat, and she screams, clawing at the wound as the nightshade poison spreads. I hate using poison darts just because they're so painful, but we're outnumbered. The other empousai stare at their dissolving sister in shock, and Lyra takes the opportunity to finish off Blondie II.

The numbers are even now. One brunette whirls on Lyra, hissing dangerously. The other one turns on me, smiling seductively. Crap.

I put an Imperial Gold dart in the blowgun and hold it to my mouth, preparing to shoot. The empousa continues walking toward me, tilting her head to one side. The faint scent of roses tickles my nose. I slowly lower the blowgun, unable to take my eyes off her.

Suddenly her face contorts. The point of a knife appears in her waist. Her body dissolves, revealing Lyra. Her face is flushed and she's panting heavily. The heap of sand behind her indicates the fate of the other brunette.

We lock eyes for a minute, before remembering the situation. Lyra quickly sheathes her knife and I stow my blowgun away.

"Jem…"

"Yeah?" I look up.

"Your neck," She rubs her own sympathetically.

I touch my neck. My fingers come away wet with blood. I don't remember at what point the empousai actually bit me. That should probably bother me more. I never realized how weak I was.

"I'll be fine, Porcelain," I say, although I really have no idea how to cure empousai bites. I kind of dozed off in class that day. Lyra doesn't look convinced.

"At least have some nectar," she says, pulling out the thermos.

Grudgingly, I take a sip. It tastes like a chocolate milkshake. Gram and I used to mess around with the blender during the summers and "invent" all kinds of milkshakes and smoothies. I always liked the one with chocolate ice cream.

The throbbing in my neck goes away. I hadn't even realized it was there.

"Thank you," I tell her, handing back the thermos. "For everything," I thought silently. There was no way I was saying it out loud. Well, maybe if my life depended on it. Lyra's eyes drift from me to the legionnaires.

"Are those the questors?" she asks, concern flashing across her face.

"Yeah," I hesitate, thinking of something. "You have any smelling salts on you?"

"I'm a daughter of Apollo, aren't I?" She searches through her bag before pulling out a tube of the stuff.

"Great," I say, smiling. I have experience with smelling salts and they are not pleasant, but they're effective.

Lyra cuts them free from their bonds. I don't know what Greeks sharpen their knives with, but it works well. I uncap the tube and hold it under Marie's nose. Within thirty seconds she sputters and jolts awake. Her eyes fixate on my face.

"James Kendrick!" Uh-oh. She scrambles to her feet. "What do you think you are doing out here? How dare you disobey a commanding officer and risk your life like this? Do you want to remain a probatio forever?"

"Technically I was never explicitly commanded to not go on the mission so you really don't have to be mad about that," I say, smiling a little.

She fumes and draws herself up. She's tiny for a seventeen year old, smaller than even Hazel, but somehow she seems to tower over my six foot frame. Lyra watches, amused.

"Three weeks on stable duty!" the centurion thunders. "Don't think you can mouth off to your superiors, Jem! Your sister will hear about this entire fiasco!" Done reprimanding me, she sinks to the ground and puts her head between her knees.

I roll my eyes. I know she doesn't mean half of what she says. I saved her life after all. Marie deals with uncomfortable situations by yelling at people. Unfortunately, I have a feeling she meant the part about stable duty. Shovelling unicorn poop three hours a day is not my idea of fun.

"You should have some ambrosia," Porcelain was on her knees by Marie. "You're hurt."

Marie frowns at her. "Who are you?"

"I'm Lyra Bowman, daughter of Apollo. I'm one of the Greek visitors," Lyra says honestly.

Marie looks upset by the presence of a Greek, but she can't yell at Lyra. Instead, she takes the ambrosia and pops it in her mouth, chewing. She's still frowning. Knowing her, she's probably beating herself up for doing such a poor job as centurion.

Shane and Ian are both surprised to see me and Lyra as well. Shane sneers at me and predicts how many weeks of punishment I'll get. Ian is just happy I'm okay. Their empousai bites close up when they eat the ambrosia. Still, we should probably get to an infirmary once we get back to Camp Jupiter.

Lyra and I quickly tell them what happened. Marie listens with a neutral expression. Shane's sneer melts off when Lyra tells them about my "heroic" feat of taking down the Cyclops. Ian is a good audience- he gasps in all the right places.

"So," Marie says once we've finished. "You snuck out of camp, walked here through the woods, fought a Cyclops, tracked down five empousai and fought them as well, and revived us."

"Sounds about right," I agree. In hindsight, I probably should have predicted that Marie would be a little mad, but surely the fact that I saved them should outweigh anything else. Marie is quiet for a few moments.

"If anyone ever doubted that you're Reyna's brother and a son of Bellona, this should shut them right up," she says finally. A grin appears on my face.

"I wouldn't have been able to do it alone," I admit. "Por- Lyra here helped me a lot. She's just modest."

"If we're done with the congratulations and the medals of honor," Shane drawls "there's still the question of how to get back."

"Your jeep is fine," Lyra says. She's packing up all her supplies. "Of course, it's a little far from here, but we should be able to walk there."

"Then let's go," Marie stands. "It's a long way home."

The jeep had a cellphone in it. Marie called Reyna and told her everything that happened. I felt myself flush with pride as Marie told her about the Cyclops and the empousai. Next to me, Lyra turned pink when her name was mentioned.

As we drive into New Rome, there's screaming. At first I think we're being attacked- I look up, expecting to see the Argo II hovering overhead- but then I realize the screaming is the crowd cheering. The story must have already gotten out at camp.

New Rome is in a festive mood. The bakery is going at full tilt. There are orange and purple streamers hanging everywhere, a symbol of unity. The legion is in formation and salutes us as we go by. The Greeks, on the other hand, are a clump of orange at the front of the crowd and screaming and jumping around like maniacs- with the exception of Di Angelo.

We come to a stop, and Shane and Ian leap out of the jeep. Ian turns around and helps Lyra out, like the gentleman he is. Shane, naturally, has no such instinct. I grab my backpack and get down.

The crowd goes even wilder. The Greeks have already gathered around Lyra. Heaving, they lift her on their shoulders. She seems to be trying to protest, but she's laughing too hard. One of the brothers sets off some fireworks- I'm not sure where he stole them from.

Before I can react, Ian grabs me and lifts me on his shoulders. The legion breaks formation and the 2nd cohort swarms around us. There's some jostling, and suddenly hands are lifting me above the crowd, and I'm being carried into the Senate building by my comrades, a little behind Lyra and the Greeks. Reyna watches the procession go, amused, but doesn't make any attempt to stop us. I just have to pray that the legionnaires don't drop me.

"Order in the court!" Zhang yells, smiling. The room laughs before quieting down. I expect Zhang to continue, but he steps back. Reyna's taking the stage for this one. I shift uneasily. The cohort dropped me next to Lyra, at the front of the room. The Greeks are right behind us. I peer at Nico, who notices me looking and nods at me. I nod back. Mutual respect is a good thing to have with someone like Di Angelo. I turn my attention back to Reyna as she stands and clears her throat.

Before she flew across the Atlantic and carted the Athena Parthenos back with her, Reyna was not much of a speaker. Octavian (may he burn in the Fields of Punishment) was the one who had a way with words. Reyna commanded respect on the battlefield, not in the Senate.

After the Giant war and the death of Octavian, Reyna became a much more confident speaker. Maybe it was because of her new partner, Praetor Zhang. Maybe she finally settled whatever ghosts she had in her past. But now, she commands the attention and the respect of the entire legion with just words.

"Yesterday, we received word of a Cyclops in Jacksonville," Reyna begins, pausing to let the snickering subside. "Just a Cyclops. No sign of any other threats. Maria Ramirez, centurion of the 2nd cohort volunteered to lead a quest. Shane Truman and Ian Chester were chosen to accompany her. Two people did not agree that a team of three would be sufficient. They snuck out of camp and went on an unauthorized quest."

My cheeks burn. Next to me, Lyra ducks her head. Romans are all about law, and if the law says we should be punished, Reyna will probably punish us.

"These two- James Kendrick and Lyra Bowman- saved the questors and destroyed the monsters," Reyna continues in a neutral tone. "We have no authority over Lyra, as she is a Greek. But James, a Roman legionnaire, will receive the consequences for his actions."

My body goes numb. Murmurs arise among the legionnaires. Were they wrong to welcome me as a hero? Would they have to suffer any consequences?

"Jem Kendrick, please approach me," Reyna's stern voice penetrates the buzzing in my ears.

One of the Greeks pokes me lightly when I don't immediately respond. I get up. My legs feel heavy. This is it. This is the fate I should have foreseen when I decided to sneak out of camp. But my ambition blinded me like always. Slowly, I begin walking, ascending the stairs, keeping my head bowed. I feel as though every eye is fixed on me.

It's only a few steps, but it feels like a lifetime. Finally, I stand next to Reyna. She's tall- shorter than me, but tall, and she has the same quality that Marie has that makes it seem as though she's towering over me.

"Jem," she says, "are you aware of what our law says for situations like this?"

I'm not sure, and I don't want to answer wrong, so I shake my head no, feeling like a child scolded by a parent. There is some laughter, but it's quickly shushed by others.

"Roman law states that any probatio who commits an act of valor and proves himself as a soldier of Rome is promoted to legionnaire," Reyna tells me.

I look up, startled. This is an unexpected twist. The room starts murmuring again, and there is more shushing.

Reyna gestures to someone behind me. I turn and see Jason Grace in his Pontifex robes. When did he arrive in camp?

"Arm, please," he says in an undertone. Dazed, I quickly roll up my sleeve. He smiles encouragingly. The murmurs have started in full force, and no one's shushing them.

"James Kendrick, son of Bellona, first year of service!" he calls. The legionnaires scream and applaud. The symbols burn onto my arm as I grit my teeth- my mother's mark, SPQR and a single line.

The noise doesn't die down, so Zhang quickly calls the meeting closed. My cohort rushes forward to congratulate me, but I pull away quickly- these people shunned me just two days ago.

The only people I allow to talk to me for more than twenty seconds are Marie and Alex. Marie was willing to work with me and help me be better with the pilum even though I hated it. Alex was the legionnaire who stood for me when I first came to camp. He helped me get on my feet, and unlike everyone else, he didn't take it personally that I wouldn't talk to him much. He knew what I was like.

After an hour of 'thank you's and forced smiles, I finally manage to excuse myself. I pick up some coffee for myself and some fruit for my mother. I need to get my journal back, and I need to thank Bellona properly.

The trek up the hill to the shrine doesn't seem as tedious as it used to. I feel like I can actually enjoy nature for once, and I take in the sights and the sounds and the smells. When I reach the top, I go straight to the altar. I arrange some apples, light a candle and get on my knees.

 _Thank you, mother. You won't be disappointed. I promise._

I stand up, and look around. No purple notebook. Odd.

I walk around the shrine, encircling all the pillars, checking and double-checking every corner, slowly growing more frantic. There's no sign of it. I look outside the temple in case I dropped it there by accident. But there's no purple notebook.

Someone must have taken it.


	6. Lyra Bowman 3

Lyra

I dashed quickly through the town as the senate meeting came to an end. The festivities were great but the crowd was overwhelming. I had to get away for a bit. I stayed just long enough to watch Jem become an official legionary (which looked like it hurt like crap), then slipped out the doors as people swarmed to congratulate him. I probably should've stayed longer, congratulate Jem myself, but I just couldn't handle that many people, every single one watching me.

I reached the hill with all the temples and began to climb. Maybe I should've stayed. Even if I wasn't comfortable with the celebrating, I still need to support Jem. He's my friend. I think.

"Maybe I should head back," I thought. I took another step and felt my foot slide out from under me. Suddenly I was on the ground, staring up one of the pillars outside the temple covered in red banners. I blinked and pulled myself into a sitting position. I looked over at my feet and saw a worn purple journal sitting near me. I groaned. I really need to work on my depth perception. I picked up the journal and climbed to my feet. I flipped through the book, checking for any damage. None. Good.

I was about to put the journal back next to the pillar when the next page slipped. My breath caught. It was the poem I'd heard before the first senate meeting. I read it again, feeling the same longing I felt the first time I heard it. I started walking again, flipping through the book. Most of the poems were about similar things as the first one. Poems about isolation and longing. About loss and struggle. I closed the notebook and pressed it to my chest, trying not to cry. I felt like someone had taken every depressed and lonely thought I've ever had (and trust me there are a lot of them) and wrote them all down. I took a deep breath and swing my backpack off my back. I tucked the book in my back pocket and pulled out my camera. Taking pictures always calmed me down. Helped me see the world from a different view. I looked to my left and saw a huge temple swathed in purple and sky blue. I could hear a faint rumbling sound, like there was a thunderstorm trapped within the walls. I knelt down until the sun was partially hidden behind the top of the temple and took the picture. I smiled. It looked perfect.

"No, no no," I heard a distant voice coming from one of the shrines. I turned around and started walking towards the voice. I found Jem standing outside the temple with the red banners, running his fingers through his hair and looking like he was about to have a breakdown.

"Jem," I called. He looked up. "Is everything ok?"

"Fine," he said roughly. "I'm fine. It's just- no I'm fine." He shoved his hands in his pocket and scanned the ground.

"Did you lose something?" I asked

"Well, y-yea," Jem looked sick.

"What is you lose? Maybe I can help?" I felt for the notebook in my back pocket. It wasn't Jem's, was it?

"It's nothing Porcelain, I don't need help," he ran his fingers through his hair and took a few steps in place. I gulped.

"Is this what you looking for?" I asked, taking the purple notebook out of my back pocket. Jem's face lit up.

"You found it!" He said, taking it from my outstretched hand. He looked back up at me and his smile was quickly replaced with suspicion. "You didn't look in it, did you?"

"Well..."

"Porcelain," Jem growled at me.

"I'm sorry," I said, wringing my hands. "I slipped on it and I was checking for damage and I saw this poem I'd heard earlier-"

"You heard me?" Jem paled. "How did you hear me? I was alone."

"I was behind the temple," I said, wincing.

"You were spying on me?!" He asked incredulously.

"No," I said, "I mean yes, kinda, but I didn't know who it was. I just heard the poem and it took my breath away. I didn't mean to." Jem scowled. He shoved the notebook deep in his pocket. "Jem," I said softly. He looked up. "They're beautiful." He grunted what I'm sure would've been a thank you if he wasn't mad at me. He turned away from me and began walking away.

"Jem," I called, rapidly thinking of a way to make it up to him.

"What," he spat, daring me to keep talking. I slid my backpack off my shoulder and took out my sketchbook.

"Here," I said, handing the book to him. Jem raised an eyebrow.

"It's my stretch book," I explained. "You can look in it, if you want to." I shoved my hands in my pocket and resisted the urge to snatch it back.

"Are you sure, Porcelain?" He asked. I nodded.

"I trust you," I said, trying not to blush.

I stepped closer and looked over Jem's shoulder as he paged through my book. Hmmm, never realized how much blue I used.

"What's this one," Jem asked, pointing to one of my sketches. It was a large black and red shadow, stretched over a cowering pale yellow fuzzy ball. I bit my lip.

"It's symbolic," I said quietly "The shadow is my grandpa and the fuzzball is my mom. He, um, he started drinking after my grandma died when I was five. Whenever we go over he gets into fights with my mom. She tries to get him to come to the doctor. He yells and throws empty beer bottles at her. I wish she would just give up on him. It's not worth the medical bills. She's gotten a broken nose twice because of him." I stopped, blinking back tears. Next to me Jem sighed. He pulled out his notebook, opened it, and handed it to me.

"Are you sure?" I asked. Jem looked at me.

"I trust you," He turned a page in the book and pointed to a poem.

"This is the poem I wrote the first time my dad left," he said. "He didn't come back for a month. I had to call my grandma myself. I was alone for three days before she arrived."

"How old were you?"

"Eleven," he said.

I read over the poem, then slowly took my sketchbook back from Jem. I flipped a few pages and showed him a small sketch. It was a rough sketch of a blue girl, curled up in a ball. She was surrounded in darkness.

"I drew this when my best friend 'gave up on me'", I drew finger quotes in the air. "She said she was tired of me 'shutting her down' and 'blaming my mom' for all my problems."

Jem flipped through his book and showed me another poem.

"I wrote this when Gram died," his voice was thick. I set a hand gently on Jem's shoulder. At the same time I managed to turn another page in my sketchbook.

"I drew this after the war," my voice shook. On the page was a blurred world. Reds, greens, and blues flowed into each other. Deep black and navy blue cracks tore through the page, like glass shattering.

"She wasn't a very good fighter," I mumbled. "A daughter of Aphrodite. Sure she practiced, but she spent most of her time designing clothes. When the battle started she was doing fine, holding her own. Then one of the dog men attacked her. It was to much for her to handle. I didn't see all of it. One moment she was knocking aside blades. The next she was on the ground, not moving. I remember my vision going red. Before I knew what I had done I was standing ankle deep in sand, stooped over her. I tried to heal her, but it was too late." I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling warm tears dripping from my face. A strong arm wrapped around my shoulders. I looked up to see Jem, a concerned took on his face.

"What was her name?" He asked softly.

"Kenna," I barely got the word out before I completely broke down. I choked out a sob and buried my head in Jem's shoulder. My sketchbook fell to the ground. Jem wrapped his other arm around me and held me tight and months of held back tears and masked feelings spilled out of me.

"Breathe," Jem whispered, gently rubbing my back. "Just breathe."

I took a few shaky breaths and managed to stop crying. I looked up at Jem. Silently, he wipes the tears from my face with his thumb. It suddenly dawned on me how close we were. I blushed and pulled away from Jem.

"Um, here," Jem stooped down and picked up my sketchbook. He handed it to me.

"Thanks," I mumbled, tucking it away in my backpack. Jem glanced in the direction of New Rome.

"They've probably started the feast by now," Jem said. "Do you want to go?"

"Sure," I said, still blushing and hoping Jem wouldn't notice. "How many people will be their?"

"Probably the whole camp,"

"Oh," I said in a small voice. Jem turned towards me.

"What's wrong?" He asked, a note of concern in his voice.

"I'm not a big fan of crowds," I mumbled, waiting for the usual jokes about Apollo and stage fright. Surprisingly, they didn't come.

"You'll be fine Porcelain," He assured me. "You just fought a cyclops and a horde of empousi. You can handle a few people."

"You sure?" I said, convinced the second I stepped into the banquet hall I'd lose my lunch.

"Positive," He took my hand. "Look, why don't we go down together?" I smiled.

"Ok, together,"

And that's what we did. Jem and I walked down the hill and headed towards the party, together.


	7. A Small Anoucement

**Attention fans of** **Proving Myself** **. The Last Narnian and I are writing a Sequel to** **Proving Myself** **called** **Misguided Direction.** **If you wanted more of Jem and Lyra and can't wait to read about their next adventure, check it out. We only have the first chapter posted so far but more is coming soon. We'd appreciate reviews if you see anything we can improve on. That you for reading our stories**

 **-The Author**


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